


A Prayer in Sick Bay

by Squeaky



Series: Good Friends [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2012-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-30 10:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Trip smiled, getting into the spirit of the game. “I hate it when you get shot by crazy displaced humans.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I hate it when you're nearly absorbed by an alien creature.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I hate it when you almost get hung.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Malcolm thought a moment. “I hate it when you get drugged by strange pollen and nearly shoot the Sub-commander.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Trip laughed, “I hate that, too.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prayer in Sick Bay

“G’way.” 

“I’m not leaving, Trip.” Malcolm sighed. “I think you need to go to sick bay.” 

The chief engineer looked up from where he was kneeling on the deck of the bridge, working on Ensign Sato’s communications console. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glassy. The delicate skin under his nose was red and flaky from too much wiping. “I’m fine,” he muttered. He sniffed.

Malcolm winced at the sound. “You’re sick.”

“A little cold never killed anyone.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Yours is killing me.”

Trip stopped working and sat back on the deck, looking up at the Lieutenant. “I promised Hoshi I’d get this glitch fixed as soon as I had the time.” He turned back to the console. “I have the time now.”

“It’s Oh-three-hundred hours, Trip,” Malcolm said, exasperated. “You should be in bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep anyway.” Trip gestured vaguely towards his face with the tool he was using, “can’t breathe.”

“Which is precisely why you should be in sick bay!” Malcolm said vehemently. “Dr. Phlox could give you something--“

“Oh no,” Trip said, stopping his work again to look at Malcolm. “After what he almost did to Travis, I ain’t goin’ near there.” He repositioned himself under the console. “Crazy Denobulan,” he muttered.

Malcolm rubbed his hand across his face, feeling suddenly very tired. “He was under the influence of the radiation of the black hole,” Malcolm explained patiently. “We all were. He’s better now.”

“And how do you know that?” Trip’s voice was muffled as he moved further under the piece of equipment. “Denobulan physiology is different than humans. He might still be affected.” He sniffed again.

“I could ask Hoshi to give you something. I’m sure she has some cold medication in her quarters,” Malcolm said, changing tactics.

Trip’s voice was incredulous. “You’d want to wake her at Oh-three-hundred hours for a cold?” There was the sound of a laser buzzing as Trip activated the tool under the desk. “Besides, she’s probably with Liz,” he continued. “It would be rude to interrupt them.”

“I could bodily drag you to sick bay,” Malcolm mused, half to himself.

“I’m your superior,” Trip countered. “I could court martial you, or somethin’.”

“What if I said you were clearly unfit for duty?”

Trip retreated from under the console to glare at him, then ducked back underneath. “Only Dr. Phlox can do that,” Trip said. “And like I said, I ain’t goin’ to see him.”   
There was the sound of an explosive sneeze. “Goddamn! Malcolm, you got a tissue, or somethin’?” Trip reached one hand back.

Malcolm sighed and fished something out of his breast pocket. He handed it to Trip.

“Thanks.” There was the unmistakeable sound of Trip blowing his nose. Malcolm felt himself twitch. “Hey,” Trip said after a second. “Is this real cloth?”

“My grandfather taught me that a gentleman always carries a handkerchief with him wherever he goes,” Malcolm replied. “I don’t think this is exactly what he was referring to, mind you.”

“He wasn’t expectin’ you to lend it to your boyfriend?” Trip gave a small laugh.

“I don’t think he was expecting the boyfriend,” Malcolm said dryly. 

Trip crawled out from where he was working and leaned heavily against the side of the desk. “About that,” he said, looking at Malcolm. “Was anyone in your family expectin’ a boyfriend?” His blocked nose made his voice even more nasal then usual.

Malcolm sat down beside Trip and leaned his head back against the console. “Actually...” He paused, sliding a glance at Trip. “I haven’t quite told them yet.”

“What?” Trip cocked his head slightly. “You haven’t told them?”

“Haven’t really gotten around to it, you might say,” Malcolm mumbled. He looked at his hands.

“Damn,” Trip said, shaking his head. “I told my momma and dad a week after we started goin’ out.”

Malcolm looked at him, startled. “You did?”

“O’course!” Trip smiled, “I always tell my folks about the good things that happen to me.”

Malcolm crinkled his eyes. “That’s awfully sweet.”

“Part of my natural charm.” Trip smiled and squeezed Malcolm’s hand. He let go immediately to sneeze violently into Malcolm’s handkerchief. “Damn,” he swore again. He looked dubiously at the handkerchief. “I guess you don’t want this back.”

“Not really,” Malcolm agreed. He put his hand against Trip’s forehead, and Trip leaned into his touch. Malcolm frowned. “You feel warm,” he said. “I really wish you would come to bed. Hoshi will understand.”

Trip smiled. “You gonna nurse me back to health?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Temptin’, but a promise is a promise,” Trip sighed. He got up on his knees. “Time to go back to work.” Suddenly, he swayed sideways. Malcolm was beside him in a second, catching the Commander before he fell.

“That’s it, Trip,” Malcolm said, feeling a sudden rush of anger. “You are going to sick bay whether you like it or not!”

“Are you gonna threaten to shoot me again?” Trip grinned weakly, allowing Malcolm to help him to his feet.

“Only if you are insisting on going out an airlock for a second time,” Malcolm responded. He put one of the other man’s arms across his shoulders. “Come on then, love,” he said, “we’re off to see Dr. Phlox.”

“You called me ‘love’.” Trip was smiling.

“You’re delirious.” Malcolm smiled back.

“You promise you’ll explain to Hoshi why I didn’t finish her console repair?” Trip asked, concerned.

“I promise.” Malcolm manoeuvred them both into the turbo lift and pressed the button for E deck.

Trip leaned back against the wall. “God, I feel like shit.”

Malcolm smirked. “You look nearly as bad.”

“Go to hell.” There was no venom in Trip’s voice.

Malcolm frowned, suddenly serious. “I hate it when you don’t take care of yourself properly.”

Trip looked at him from the corner of his eye. “I hate it when you try to suffocate yourself when you’re pinned to the hull by a mine.” He closed his eyes. “Hell, I just hate it when you’re pinned to the hull.”

“Well, I hate it when you nearly broil to death in a desert,” Malcolm responded.

Trip smiled, getting into the spirit of the game. “I hate it when you get shot by crazy displaced humans.”

“I hate it when you're nearly absorbed by an alien creature.”

“I hate it when you almost get hung.”

Malcolm thought a moment. “I hate it when you get drugged by strange pollen and nearly shoot the Sub-commander.”

Trip laughed, “I hate that, too.”

The lift stopped and both men got out, Malcolm continuing to support Trip.

“I hate it when we almost freeze to death in a shuttle,” Malcolm said conversationally.

“Although I really enjoyed the company.” Trip squeezed Malcolm’s shoulder.

Malcolm caressed Trip’s wrist with his thumb. “I bet you didn’t think so at the time.”

“Hell, no!” Trip chuckled, “you just told me you had sex with Ruby!” He sneezed again. “Ah shit,” he muttered, wiping his nose with his free hand. He rubbed his hand on his pant leg.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a disgusting habit, Commander. Not to mention entirely unhygienic.”

“It’ll wash.” Trip grinned.

They arrived at sick bay. The door opening quietly as they approached. Malcolm was surprised to see the room was well lit and that there were two other occupants, one sitting on one of the biobeds. They were both in dressing gowns and the one on the biobed was wearing pink bunny slippers.

“Hiya Hoshi, Liz,” Trip said.

“Hi, yourself,” Hoshi muttered. She didn’t look pleased. 

Liz’s arms were crossed. She didn’t look pleased either. “Stubborn woman has a cold. She refused to come to sick bay. I practically had to drag her here!”

Malcolm indicated the other man with a cock of his head. “I had to wait until Trip nearly passed out on the bridge.”

Liz looked puzzled. “What were you doing on the bridge so late?”

“Fixin’ Hoshi’s console,” Trip mumbled.

“Thanks.” Hoshi smiled weakly. “But it’s not like I’m going to be using it any time soon.” Her voice sounded thick, her words indistinct and slurred from her stuffed-up nose.

“You might as well put him on that biobed,” Liz said to Malcolm, gesturing to the empty bed beside her. “Dr. Phlox will be back in a minute. He’s gone to analyze Hoshi’s throat swab to see what kind of treatment she’ll need.”

Malcolm helped Trip lie down on the biobed and carefully removed his boots. Trip threw his arm over his eyes. “I hate being in sick bay.”

“Amen to that,” Hoshi replied. She lay down, sighed, sat up, readjusted her pillow and lay back down.

Liz picked up one of her hands and began to massage it. “Hmm, that feels nice,” Hoshi said.

Trip lifted up his arm, raised his head and looked over to see what Liz and Hoshi were doing. He put his arm back down over his eyes. “Why don’tcha ever massage one of my hands?” he asked Malcolm.

“I am not doing so currently because your hands are covered in snot,” Malcolm replied. He brushed some hair off of Trip’s forehead. “Perhaps I will later.”

“Do you need anything?” Liz asked, “Either of you?” 

“I’d love some water,” Hoshi said.

“A blanket’d be nice,” Trip answered.

Malcolm sighed. “Your wish is my command, Commander.” He found a blanket and filled a glass of water at the nearby sink, handing it to Liz on his way back to Trip. He draped the blanket over the other man.

“Better,” Trip murmured. He was almost asleep.

Hoshi finished the water and lay back down. She pulled her robe closed around her and rolled on her side towards Liz. “Wake me when Dr. Phlox comes back?”

“Of course, my love,” Liz said.

Hoshi smiled, “You called me love.” She closed her eyes. 

Malcolm went and dimmed the lights, then pulled up a chair for himself and Liz, positioning them between the two biobeds. He sat. 

“They look so sweet when they’re asleep,” Liz sighed.

“Deceptively so.” Malcolm laughed quietly.

Liz picked up one of Malcolm’s hands, squeezed it gently. “You’re a good boyfriend, you know that?”

“You’re a good girlfriend,” Malcolm replied. He squeezed her hand back.

Liz dropped his hand, hugged herself. “It’s just a little cold, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” Malcolm responded. “Its not like we’ve been attacked by Suliban again.”

“I hate it when that happens,” Liz smiled.

“I hate it every time I come down to sick bay with Trip, and it’s not me who’s hurt,” Malcolm said. He frowned.

“I hate not being able to protect Hoshi from all the bad stuff that can happen,” Liz said. 

Malcolm put his arm around her, drew her into his chest. “I hate it when my friends worry about things they cannot control.”

Liz snuggled into him. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re warm.”

“Shall I get you a blanket?” Malcolm rested his chin on the top of her head.

“No, this is fine.”

Trip started to snore. “I hate it when he does that,” Malcolm said.

“But you love him,” Liz said, closing her eyes.

“With all my heart,” Malcolm replied.

“In sickness and in health,” Liz said.

“For as long as we both shall live,” Malcolm finished.

“Amen,” Liz said.

They sat, cuddled together, listening to their loved ones sleep.

 

END


End file.
